


Locked Out. On The Roof.

by 1stly_fannish_writing_dispensary



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Behold The Ultra-Fluff, Gen, Let It Soothe You
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-01
Updated: 2016-04-01
Packaged: 2018-05-30 13:17:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6425509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1stly_fannish_writing_dispensary/pseuds/1stly_fannish_writing_dispensary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This work again includes my OC team for Ward, because that's my niche, I guess? They're in other works I've posted.</p>
<p>All right, this could get tense, but don't worry, it'll come out all right. Ward gets locked out on the roof and Mendez, who is busy, does not remember him until a while later. Everyone else including Daisy thinks he's just holed up in his room.</p>
<p>And Ward undergoes some minor trauma.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Locked Out. On The Roof.

Daisy had landed half an hour earlier than scheduled, and now Mendez was running around with messy hair and jeans he had fished out of his laundry hamper, tucking the tail of his shirt into his pants and shouting at one of the Carls in Spanish, "I need socks a belt and coffee as quickly as possible. Don't break anything." Carl was off, still half-asleep himself, and recruits were waking up, either headed toward where Daisy was waiting downstairs or to the bathrooms. The first smells of breakfast came up the stairs; some of the older Inhumans must have gotten the ovens going. Good, Mendez thought, mentally checking that off his list. The slot left behind rapidly filled with other things to attend to, such as making sure the younger kids had their lunches, homework, backpacks, etc. all ready for school. Sayers had transportation going even as she chugged an energy drink and a large cup of coffee nearly at the same time, typing on her laptop and then pausing to fix her hair back in a bun and put on some glasses. She wore no makeup or shoes and her shirt may have been from a pajama set Carl had given to her on a whim, because apparently he knew her clothing sizes. 

"Sorry, I didn't know we would get here early," Daisy said. Lincoln was talking to the throng of Inhumans gathered around him. He took a few selfies, too. "May's got it running. They ready to go?"

"Yes? Let me um," Mendez held up a hand for her to wait and stood at the bottom of the stair railing. "Any of you wanna go with her, hurry up, she's waiting!"

"Where's Ward?" Daisy asked.

"Don't... know," Mendez said. He looked around the room, spotted Carl and shout-asked, "Where's Ward?"

"In his room I think. Want me to get him?"

"No, I got it. Hurry up with the kids or else they'll be late for school. We got any families comin'?"

"Not until later today."

Mendez shut his eyes in relief. A crash came from one of the corners and screaming started, the kind that meant a fight. It was between two six-year-olds, which meant neither opponent had yet been taught that fighting dirty wasn't polite. One of them had a pencil? "Carl, carl, CARL!" Mendez pointed at them and Carl ran over. Then one of the boys said another kid had stolen his lunch, which Mendez doubted but voicing that would be like chucking a bag of cow crap up into an industrial-blade fan then watching it spray around. Crap-dusting. That could be a thing, he thought absently, and watched with a sort of detached interest as a four-year-old tried to copy the big kids by pouring her own juice. SPLOOSH, all down the front of her. Tears looked eminent. 

"This why I hate Mondays?" Mendez said to himself as he passed Carl who handed him a roll of paper towels. "Yeah, this is why. Yep. No it's okay baby girl, I got you. Here, help me clean this?"

Mendez, Carl and Sayers were on the go for the rest of the day; they broke up fights and searched for lost objects, fed pets and did hair, helped with chores and homework, taught classes on coping with powers, arranged physicals with Simmons and let Daisy and Lincoln take over when they returned. That was at lunch time, and Carl said he would get some food up to Ward's room. Then someone tried to climb the ivy outside one of the windows and lost their nerve half-way up, so they just stayed there until somebody came to help them down. Sayers had work to do because Hydra was acting up and she got a phone call from her mother, which lasted an eon.

So Ward? Yeah, he was left on the roof, where he'd spent the night, slowly but surely losing his cool. His medication wasn't something he carried with him like a talisman, but after this, it could have been attached to his hand like a new body part. No water, shoes, food, or blankets. Just the usual t-shirt and loose-fitting pants. Once he could shuffle around more, Mendez started coaxing him out onto the roof, helping him get used to being outside. Ward hadn't wanted to go out yesterday, since he'd failed to spot a minor detail that wouldn't have made a difference in the last mission, or so said Mendez; Ward felt that it was just failure. He was there, so, had to be. But Mendez had pulled him away from the laptop, taking it hostage, walking out of the room whistling. Ward went along with many protests, but still, he followed. In front of him, Mendez had been smiling, making sure Ward was behind him. Paying attention. Noticing.

He tried knocking first because that seemed sensible. Nobody came. He thought they were busy but they would come and get him when they weren't, when they had a break. Nobody came. He sat down by the door and waited in cool night air with stars and stars and STARS pressing down over the buildings, black shadows of birds flitting past. Night creatures made their noises and Ward waited, trying not to feel forgotten. He fell asleep, slumped on the ground. A small, soft thought came to him vaguely, submerged in drowsiness: this was just like his cell back at S.H.I.E.L.D. It fell away from his mind when he slept and when he woke it was forgotten. He watched the sun make its way through the sky and wondered when one of them would check his room. He lifted his hand to knock but then thought maybe they were still busy. So he decided not to bother them. They would get him when they needed him.

Daisy was the first to go check on Ward, in case something was wrong. She knocked first because he preferred that. When no answer came she knocked again, this one quicker and less formal. Then she went in and saw an empty bed, empty bathroom, no evidence of dishes, no sign of Ward. His laptop had been left on the table; it was even plugged in! Daisy called his name a few times before heading back out to the hall and flagging down one of the Carls. "Ward's not in his room."

Carl, who held a tray of food complete with a flower in a vase, walked sedately up to the open doorway and looked in. He went inside the room and after a few moments of looking around and doing the same things Daisy had just done, he came back out with the tray still in his hands. "Well. Poop."

"Where would he hide?" she asked.

"In his room."

"We're ready to go," Lincoln said, coming up the stairs. 

"Ward's not in his room."

"Where'd he go?"

Daisy lifted her shoulders. "He doesn't go outSIDE."

Carl heard this, shook his head at the dilemma. Then he stopped, looked down at the tray. "CRAP. On a CRACKER. Mendez, where is he, MENDEZ? Yo! We just Home Alone'd Ward!" He shoved the tray into Lincoln's hands when he walked by, hurrying down the stairs. "Men-dez! Men-dez! Where you at, we need to go get Ward!"

Mendez came in and started to ask what Carl meant, to which Carl just said, "Roof." Mendez's mouth dropped open and he ran with Carl to the stairs leading to the roof. Daisy turned and followed them. Mendez was at the door, undoing the lock, and shoving the door open. Carl ran outside before him, looked around, spun and saw Ward. "Uh!" he shouted, pointing, "Lookit!"

Ward was still asleep, now stirring into wakefulness. Mendez said, "Carl, get a--" A Carl appeared with a blanket. "Anyone need this?" he asked. Mendez took it and wrapped it around Ward as he sat up, slightly disoriented. Well, not slightly. He had bits of roof gravel stuck to him. His hair was smushed on one side, and he looked wrinkly and red on one half of his face. He let his head flop onto Mendez's shoulder as he murmured, "Hey, Daisy." Mendez helped him to his feet and together they made their way back to Ward's room, where Mendez dumped attention on Ward, ton by guilt-ridden ton. Ward ended up being clean, dressed in fresh clothes, hydrated, and fed. Then he fell onto his couch after taking his meds, softly saying "don't leave" to Mendez, who wanted to stay but couldn't. So Daisy held his hand. Ward was so beat he didn't know the difference. There'd be a sunburn; they'd get him some aloe vera, probably. 

She reached up and rubbed Ward's hair, still damp from his cool-not-cold shower that Mendez had helped him take. It was something she used to do in foster homes for the littler kids. It always helped them to sleep better, she thought. To feel cared for. To feel seen. To be at peace.


End file.
